Cornered
by lotus-brody
Summary: Charley and Peter get trapped in a small metal storage bin trying to hide from a vampire, and Peter get's ideas. Peter/Charley, maybe a bit one-sided at first? Rated M because it does get a little risque.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I just saw Fright Night, and my filthy little mind slashed Peter and Charley at once. I suppose it was the odd bit of flirting in the movie (or at least Peter hinting that he's perfectly a'OK with boys) that this ended up coming about. I really hope that more of this pairing appear soon! ^_^ And so,

Pairing: Peter/Charley

Summary: Charley and Peter get trapped in a small metal storage bin trying to hide from a vampire, and Peter get's ideas.

Disc: Obviously I don't own them otherwise that kiss at the end would have lasted a bit longer. Quite a bit longer.

`~+0+~`

Well this had turned from a potentially lethal situation to a very strange one, and Peter Vincent had had his fair share of those. One minute he and Charley Brewster (he wanted to think of him as a sidekick, even though the scrawny git had taken quite a few more risks than he had) were chasing down some snarly wench through an industrial park, then the next minute he was pressed down in a storage tank with his fellow slayer lying on top of him.

"This is fucking brilliant, mate," said Peter through clenched teeth.

"That had better be your stake digging into my hip," was Charley's glib reply.

Peter snorted.

Whoever the snarly wench had been, she'd had a couple of mates. In the interest of self preservation Charley had gotten some dazzling fucking idea and, after causing a very good diversion with a few Molotov's, had opened up the teeny, tiny storage drum and shut them inside where they would presumably wait until morning.

Fantastic. Now here he was in the pitch dark, laid out flat on his back, with Charley half-lying on top of him trying to take the weight with his arms. There was a little vent letting fresh air in and out, which was fortunate because he really didn't want to suffocate with in here.

He tried to shift, but there wasn't much room. Charley certainly hadn't shopped around for valuable real estate, or considered what the rather intimate contact might do to Peter. He shifted a little, trying to keep control of himself, and wishing he was a more sloshed.

_I am losing my buzz,_ he noticed, then reached between them, fishing for his pocket.

"Hey!" Charley squeaked, trying to roll his hips to the side.

Peter was glad it was dark because he could feel himself flushing up a bit as Charley's squirming fucked with his self control. "Oh relax, I'm looking for my flask not your junk."

He found it after a moment and, after a clumsy shuffle, held to his ear and shook it. Not that much left. Sighing, he twisted off the cap with his teeth and took a very awkward gulp, draining the last of it. He smacked his lips, wishing he had just a little more.

"Never a bad time for alcohol," Charley said sarcastically.

Was Charley always this cheeky? He wasn't sure. "Damn straight," he said, setting the flask aside.

"How long until sunrise?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "Probably another two, three hours."

Charley started fidgeting. "I'm really sorry about this," he said, trying to draw himself over to the vent to peer out. He rolled, his hips dragging across Peter's legs, and then up, his arse rubbing against Peter's crotch.

He hissed, turning his head to the side. Charley's arms were on either side of his head, so he was all he could smell.

"I can't see anything."

_I could have told you that!_

Really, it wasn't fair. Here Charley was rubbing all over him, driving him mad, and he was out of sodding alcohol. Charley wiggled back down, sliding back over his crotch. Peter's pants weren't exactly what one would call roomy when he wasn't aroused, and now they were so tight he was worried a seam would burst.

"Now, I know that's not your stake," said Charley as he turned around again.

Peter winced. "You're the one rubbing his arse all over me."

Charley laughed. In the darkness, with his arms on either side of him, he could feel the warm breath on his face. It also meant he was close enough to kiss, which was just as maddening as anything else. Deciding that if Charley thought it was so fucking funny to tease, he spread his legs and hitched them up, letting Charley slide between them.

"This is about a million different kinds of wrong," said Charley, squirming a little.

Peter ignored the jab, clenching his teeth again as Charley's crotch ground against his as he tried to find a comfy spot. "I figured it would be more comfortable."

"Right." Charley laughed again. "Really, we make quite a pair. The pathetic college student who can't even keep a girlfriend and a bisexual Las Vegas illusionist who slay vampires in their spare time. I bet we could sell the story to HBO and make a mint."

"Oh naff off," said Peter, wondering if the universe fucking hated him. Never mind how much he owed this silly little sot, he really didn't deserve this.

There was a crunch from nearby and he felt Charley's body go rigid. Peter wrapped his arms around him and pulled him hard against his chest so that he could feel Charley's heartbeat against his.

"Why'd you do that?"

_"Shut up!"_

There was another crunch outside, sounding like the remains of Peter's car _(Maggie, may you rest in peace)_ getting tossed aside. He hoped that the blonde bimbo with the fangs wasn't a good tracker. Charley had torched his poor little Ford and a few other abandoned sheds to make the vampires flee. Peter had seen fit to set a fake trail towards an alley and doubled back before Charley had forced him in this goddamn container.

"They fucked off that way," said one voice.

"Go check it out," said another, the snarly bitch.

Peter couldn't hear it disappear, and knew it didn't mean fuck all anyway. Whomever was left was dismantling one of the torched sheds by the sounds of things. Charley was gasping next to him, his body trembling, and wasn't _that_ just helping his bloody hard-on?

"Would you get control of yourself?" Charley whispered in his ear.

"Shh," he said again.

A crunch, very close this time. Charley jumped.

_God damnit, he certainly isn't acting like the man who killed an ancient vampire!_

He shifted his arm and tilted Charley's head. Charley let out another squeak, but this was muffled by his lips. He figured if he was going to shut Charley up, he might as well give his mouth something to do - and didn't that thought send a bolt straight down to his nads - or, if they were going to die he might as well have a last snog.

Charley started to pull away, but Peter pulled him down hard. At first they did nothing but press their lips together, listening to the sounds of the vampire. There was another crash. Charley's heart kicked it into high gear. Peter started to move his lips against his. It was hard to ignore the fact that Charley had just turned eighteen a month before, but he didn't care. He smelled so _good_, and his body had stopped trembling now, his fingers were touching his hair.

Charley resisted at first, but Peter nipped his lower lip and when Charley gasped in surprise, Peter took advantage, delving his tongue inside.

_Oh, that is nice,_ he thought, curling his fingers into Charley's rather shaggy hair. _Thank the Gods for lazy college students._

Charley was kissing back now, his tongue making shy movements against his. Peter never really wanted to admit it because generally he preferred people who knew what they were doing, but he had a slight virgin fetish. Charley might not actually be a virgin but he was in this, and that send a wave of smouldering heat through his body.

Peter catalogued another new, and interesting development. Charley had a hard-on too. He squeezed his thighs together and thrust upwards, grinding against him. Charley gasped, his fingers dug into Peter's shoulders, thrusting back.

"Oh God," Peter hissed, breaking the kiss a moment. He turned Charlie's head and kissed over his jaw to his neck. Perhaps it wasn't the best thing to be doing given their situation, but he grazed his teeth over the warm skin and Charley shuddered. When he nipped, Charley thrust forward and twisted, finding his lips again.

The crunch's moved further away, and someone spoke. The first voice had returned. Trusting that Charley could keep his breathing under control, he pulled away, trying to listen to what was happening

"I spoke to a hooker. Said she saw two guys get into a taxi a few streets up."

The snarly bitch swore in a voice that was far too pretty for her fangs. "Does David know?" she asked after a moment.

"He's waiting for you to make a call."

She waited a moment. "Alright. Come on."

There was one more crunch, and something hit the tank with a very loud crash. Peter winced as his ears rang, and Charley had let out a yelp, but no one prised the lid of their tank off.

Their hearts were thundering in the small space. After a few minutes, unable to see, Peter shifted so that he was lying on his side, straddling Charley. He wished he had bad intentions, but he reached over and found the clasp and turned it. It grated, letting out a long ringing groan, but snapped open. He shifted again and heaved, standing up. The metal cover groaned again as he stood, and he peeked out into the alley.

Fire was still flickering here and there, attempting to burn. It was a wonder the fire department hadn't come yet, but it was a rather deserted area.

No vampire's came to bite him, so he shoved the lid open and reached down. Charley, looking very flushed and blinking dazedly in the sodium lights, took his hand and let himself be pulled up.

"So, um..." Charley offered.

Ignoring him, Peter picked up his flask and tucked it in his coat. His pants were still tight. Way too tight. Charley shuffled. His lips were all swollen and kiss sore, and _ugh,_ Peter had grabbed him again, this time by the lapels of his shitty fucking jean jacket and claimed them again. The kiss was rough, dragging. He pulled away, and he felt Charley sway.

"My place."

Charlie blinked at him, like he couldn't understand the simple statement. It was like his brain had melted, and that made Peter proud.

"Um..."

"Not a question."

"Alright then, your place."

`~+0+~`

A/N: I might do another... would people like another to find out what's going to happen next? Let me know ^_^


	2. Chapter 2  Pinned

A/N: Alright, here we are then. I think I've edited it pretty carefully bit things always slip by so I apologize if I've made some glaring grammatical errors and I hope it's up to everyone's standards _

Thank you for all the lovely reviews! I can't hold back from writing more in this little !verse, so there's another story coming after this one, but it won't be posted under this title. I'm experimenting a bit with it, but so far all seems good with it and the first bit should be ready in a few days. I won't promise a lot of posting, as I'm running several stories on here ATM, but I'll try and keep it steady. Keep an eye out for the sequel!

Disc: I really don't think I need another, do I?

`~+0+~`

Peter was fairly certain the cabbie didn't like them.

The first clue was the look they got when they tried to flag one down. When the taxi driver had seen two, slightly scorched and battered men on the sidewalk, he hadn't looked like he wanted to stop. Peter was prepared for any eventuality, and the wad of cash he waved had made him hit the brakes.

The second clue was the closer look he got at the fact that they were sporting some dangerous looking hardware, the guy had thrown the car into drive, when Peter leaned in through the window and put the equivalent of two score quid in his hand.

The third clue was the dirty looks he was getting from Ahab up front. The guy was obviously biting his tongue, though. No way he was turning a fare down who threw sixty bucks up front for a tip.

It was taking far too much effort to keep his damn hands off of Charley in the taxi. Peter was in the middle, as close to Charley as he could get, stealing kisses and touching him when he couldn't help himself. Charley's hand was vicelike on his thigh, and occasionally he gave him lusty, but apprehensive looks before leaning in. Those kisses weren't rough and hard, but shy and a little sweet, and that hit several of the magician's kinks pretty hard. He cursed, throwing glances at the plastic divider between the driver and the back seat. He longed to unhook his seatbelt and pull him into his lap and really make that pliable body writhe. Perhaps it was just as well, or he might make a mess in his trousers before they got back to his flat.

They stumbled out of the taxi into the humid night almost before it stopped. The cabbie seemed happy to be rid of them, but Peter had thrown more than enough money into the front seat to placate him. When they made it to his building the doorman buzzed them in with barely a glance. He was used to the two of them showing up at odd hours bedraggled and carrying stakes. It had also sort of become Charley's second home. After all, how many kids going to the Nevada University could brag that they had a high rise to crash in after a long night cramming in the library?

The second the elevator doors had dinged shut behind them Peter had grabbed Charley again, pressing him up against the mirrored wall. Peter sucked on his lower lip, his hands clenching Charley's narrow hips as he ground into him, wishing there was more friction. Charley, emboldened, grabbed his face and kissed him back.

Peter wasn't sure what to expect with their relationship, or if indeed this was going to be more than a one-off. He hoped Charley wouldn't mind getting a bit rough, that he wouldn't scare him. He'd had a bit of a thing for him ever since he'd walked in on him and Amy that night. Even though Amy could have been a super model, it had been Charley's lithe body that caught his eyes. He'd been fantasizing about it off and on for months, and wasn't sure if he could go easy on him.

_Hell,_ thought Peter, sliding his fingers past the waist band of Charley's jeans to cup one perfect ass cheek, _it's been so damned long since I've been with anyone I _could_ be gentle with._

The elevator dinged and, trying not to break the kiss, Peter dragged him backwards into the apartment. Their jacket's came off, and the tools of their trade hit the ground in a clatter. Shoes were kicked off and lost somewhere while they stumbled with each other.

"Charley," he said, mouthing at his neck. "I'm almost at the point where I'm not going to be able to stop. Are you sure?"

Charley gasped, his fingers dug into Peter's shoulders. "I'm sure. But..."

Peter frowned, pulling away to look at him. 'But's' weren't high on the list of things he wanted to hear. "But what?"

"I've never... with a guy, I mean." Charley looked worried, like _he_ was going to scare _Peter_ off.

Peter licked his lips, trying to keep from smiling, and trying to figure out how to word it so he didn't offend him or make him scarper. "Obviously. And I don't care. All I want right now is you, plain and simple."

Charley nodded, still looking scared.

"I'll go easy on you, if that helps," said Peter, leaning in. He brushed a kiss over his lips. "I promise."

Charley kissed him this time, delving his tongue into Peter's mouth, squeezing him. "Alright. What are you planning to do to me?" Peter gasped, a surge of warmth washed through him as he curled his fingers into the younger man's hair, pulling his face against him. Did the innocent little bastard have any idea what that sort of thing did to Peter? No, probably not.

He had to touch his skin. He kicked open the door to the bedroom and the two of them collapsed onto the bed the second they ran into it. They twisted back over the silk sheets until they came to the headboard. Peter straddled him, bracing himself up against the wall, grinding his hips against Charley's.

They turned in the sheets until Charley was on top, pinned against his body. Peter's lips were getting sore, but he was addicted to it. Charley was getting better than the scared fumbling in the storage bin. How long had it been since anyone had made Peter's legs go weak? He moaned into his mouth. He'd had a few fuck buddies since Ginger had died, but there was never a lot of kissing involved. It had been a long time since he'd had a good, hard snog.

He reached down beside the bed and pulled out a bottle of Midori. He twisted the cap off and took a long swallow. He didn't plan on being sloshed for this – oh no, he wanted to remember it all - but he knew that alcohol might make the experience a little easier for Charley.

"Drink?" he offered.

Charley sat up, taking the bottle from him, and took a very long pull. Enough for him, he was a total light weight. Peter watched his Adam's apple bob with each swallow. The kid really did have a lovely throat.

"Thanks," gasped Charley when he came up for air.

Peter took the bottle back, took another swig, and set the bottle on the night stand with a heavy clunk.

He pulled him back down and kissed him again, and this time he tasted of saliva and melon liqueur, so sweet and strong, and so much fucking better.

Peter ripped open Charley's shirt. The buttons popped in a cascade, revealing his white undershirt.

"Damnit, kid, you wear too much."

Charley chuckled. He sat up, letting Peter push his shirt over his head, revealing his pale, flawless chest. Peter dragged his eyes over him, appreciating the hint of muscles, the dusting of hair around his navel, and higher, to his smooth, flushed throat, and to his face. His eyes, dilated in desire, parted red lips, his tongue flicking just behind his teeth.

Peter felt his arousal step it up even further. He twisted, pinning Charley beneath him by his wrists so that those lovely arms were above his head, stretching his torso. His other hand reached down, flicking the button of his fly open. He jerked the waistband down and reached inside, closing his hands around Charley's hard-on, squeezing.

"Ahh!" he arched his back as Peter manipulated him.

Peter wanted to fuck him until Charley forgot his own name, wanted to make him feel like he was ascending to another plane, but that night he knew it might only scare him off. He had no idea what his limits were.

He licked his lips and let go of his wrists, imagining what he'd look like handcuffed to the bed, all stretched out, straining to touch, only able to writhe and completely at his mercy. Peter shuddered at that thought. _Next time. _He yanked the younger man's trousers down, exposing him. Peter looked up, met his dark eyes, and grinned.

Charley trembled, looking apprehensive. Peter pulled his pants off the rest of the way, leaving Charley naked and gasping on his bed. So pale against the black sheets, hands up by the headboard, gasping. With each breath his cock bounced, pointing upwards to his face. Peter yanked off his shirt and unbuttoned his pants with a snap. He wanted there to be no layers between them.

The second he was freed he sighed. His cock was aching to be touched. He pinned Charley's wrists again _(really, the boy needed to be handcuffed, he looked so fucking good restrained like that)_ and leaned down to kiss him again.

"Jesus," said Charley.

"What?" asked Peter, just before he got to his prize.

"Nothing," he replied. Peter raised an eyebrow, noticing that Charley's eyes were averted like he didn't want to look between them.

_Ahhh... I intimidate him._ The thought made him want to purr and just a touch proud. He grinned and kissed him, settling his weight over his partner. He started to thrust, slow and leisurely, enjoying the sensation of Charley's heat against his own, the rubbing of skin and soft hair. He loved the way his soft paunch tensed up against his own every time he answered with his own hesitant nudge.

He let go of one of Charley's arms and wet his palm with saliva. He reached between them, touching them both. He thrust in time with each kneading squeeze, and Charley shuddered. The arm which wasn't restrained snaked out and gripped the sheets.

"Mmm," Peter smiled. "You like that. Feels good?"

Charley didn't have an articulate reply, but he nodded.

Peter let go of his other arm and started to work his way down his body. He tested his neck, and Charley made nice little gasps of want that made Peter wonder how long he could hold off. He stroked Charley's cock, swirling his thumb around the head, loving his little growls. Peter's balls tightened in response.

Making his way down he ran his tongue first along the edge of his pec, under, and then up to his nipple. He grazed his teeth over the nub. Charley cried out, bucking. Grinning, he mouthed downwards, dragging his teeth over sensitive spots until he was writhing.

He pressed his tongue to the base of Charley's erection, and his whole body tensed. He dragged the tip to the head, and drew him into his mouth. He tasted good. The bitter taste of precum, the tang of sweat, something sweet that belonged to him alone. A glance upwards sent another bolt of desire straight down. He started to stroke himself. Charley looked too good, gripping the sheets, his body arched, beautiful face laid bare in pleasure.

Charley looked down, his eyes were dark, dilated. He threw his head back. "Oh shit," he said. "Oh my God."

Peter chuckled, and the vibrations made Charley buck.

It didn't take long. After another few minutes Charley tensed, his fingers twisted into Peter's hair, tugging enough to get him wild from the sensation, his fingers massaging against his skin. Peter took him deep, and Charley cried out.

"I, I'm gonna – you better stop," his words turned into a gargling, inarticulate slur of syllables.

Peter ignored him. Charley came with a shout, and Peter savoured each twist and groan, each new taste on his tongue, as he waited for him to slow. He pulled off, watching, relishing each expression as it crossed his face.

Charley panted, slumped like he couldn't move. His chest was so nice and flushed. Peter crawled back over him, admiring his handiwork, and nipped at his partner's collarbone. He sat up, deciding on a quick wank. Charley wasn't going to be up to anything, and he didn't want him to expect he had to do anything.

Charley opened his eyes and Peter shuddered. Oh, what he'd give to be inside of him, getting that look of desire, pinning him down.

"Let me," said Charley, reaching out.

"You don't have to," said Peter.

"I want to," he twisted him so they were lying side by side. Charley kissed him, and the thought that Charley could taste himself on Peter's tongue made the illusionist tremble. His hand was unskilled, but he was eager. "I want you to come, Peter," he said, and Peter shuddered. Everything rushed him at once - the look on his face, his touch, how good he tasted, his urging little whispers - and he hit the edge, gasping into his mouth as he came, convulsing against him.

When the tremors had stopped, the two of them lay in a tangle of legs. Whenever it occurred to one of them, they would press a sleepy kiss against the others skin.

"So?" asked Charley.

"So?" said Peter, knowing what was coming, and wanting to put the conversation off. He really didn't want to have the whole 'where do we go now?' speech.

"Wanna do it again?"

Peter grinned. There was nothing like a genuine surprise. "So this isn't a one-off? You're not gonna take off for the couch and pretend it never happened in the morning?"

Charley shook his head. "I'm open to... well, whatever this is, or will be, or whatever."

Glad that their little chat had gone over without unnecessary words, he rolled Charley on top of him, wrapping his arms around him. Charley didn't want a one-off, and that made Peter thrill, getting hot all over again. He kissed him, planning on what he was going to do to him next, and glad they still had a little bit of night and a whole lot of weekend left before either of them had to leave the bedroom. Charley was already reacting, panting, his body trembling in a sweet way.

Peter pulled away, gasping. "I'm going to rock your fucking world, mate."

`~+0+~`

A/N: Please tell me what you think!


End file.
